It had been a long day of press interviews, and you were down to your last solo sit-down. While promoting your upcoming romantic comedy, the questions had ranged from light-hearted to deeply introspective. But the one that caught you completely off guard was the simplest:
"What do you think of your co-star, Nicholas Chavez?"
The question immediately made you grin. You couldn't help it. Nick was... well, Nick. And though you knew you should give a professional and poised answer, something playful slipped out instead.
"Smash. Next question," you quipped, breaking into laughter along with the crew behind the camera.
After the giggles died down, you leaned forward and elaborated. "In all honesty, Nick is such a hard worker and so kind. He makes coming to set enjoyable. He's my best friend." You couldn't help but smile as you said it. Every word was true.
The interview went on with a few more questions about the film, your career, and life outside of work. Once it wrapped, you left feeling good about the entire thing, especially the little moment when you got to gush about Nick.
The next morning, your phone buzzed with a message from your manager.
Manager: "Your interview is live! The response is already crazy. Link's attached."
Curious, you clicked the link, watching yourself answer the questions as you sipped your coffee. Everything seemed fine until you scrolled down to the comments.
"Y/N Y/L/N has a crush on Nicholas!?"
"I SHIP THEM SO HARD."
"Are they secretly dating? This feels too real."
"They're literally soulmates. Someone call Nicholas RIGHT NOW."
Your cheeks burned. What did I even say? Then it hit you—"Smash. Next question." Your laughter echoed in your head, and you groaned, sliding your phone onto the table.
Little did you know, Nick had seen the interview too.
POV: Nicholas Chavez
Nick sat on his couch, phone in hand, watching the interview for the second time. The first time, he'd been surprised—no, stunned—when he heard your response to the question about him.
"Smash. Next question," you'd joked, laughing as you did.
The clip had replayed in his head more times than he cared to admit, but it wasn't just the playful comment that stuck with him. It was what you said after—the part where you called him a hard worker, kind, and your best friend. The sincerity in your voice hit him harder than he expected.
Nick had admired you for years, long before you became co-stars. You were talented, beautiful, and had this effortless way of lighting up every room you entered. Working with you had only made his admiration grow. But hearing you talk about him like that? It made something shift.
He leaned back on the couch, staring at the paused screen of your smiling face. This didn't feel like some publicity stunt. It felt real.
And he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Later that evening, you found yourself standing outside Nick's apartment door, heart pounding as you knocked. When he'd called and asked you to come over, his tone had been unreadable. You had no idea what he wanted to talk about, and your nerves were running wild.
The door opened, and there he was, wearing a hoodie and joggers, hair slightly messy like he'd been running his hands through it.
"Hey," he said, stepping aside to let you in.
"Hey," you replied, slipping past him into the living room.
You perched on the edge of the couch while Nick took a seat across from you. There was a moment of silence before he spoke.
"I saw your interview."
Your stomach dropped. Of course, he had. "Oh."
Nick tilted his head, studying you. "So... 'Smash. Next question,' huh?"
Your cheeks flamed, and you let out a nervous laugh. "Okay, in my defense, it was supposed to be funny! I didn't think it'd—"
"It was funny," he interrupted, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But it's what you said after that really got me."
You blinked, unsure of where this was going.
"You said I'm your best friend," Nick continued. "That I make coming to set enjoyable."
"Because it's true," you said softly.
Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You know, I've always admired you. I've watched almost every movie you've ever done. I thought you were incredible even before we started working together. And now that I know you... it's so much more than that."
Your breath hitched, and he noticed.
"I thought maybe this was just a professional connection," he said, his voice quieter now. "But it doesn't feel that way anymore. I like you, Y/N. Not just as a co-star or a friend. I like you as you."
For a moment, you could only stare at him. The words you'd secretly wanted to hear were finally out in the open, and it was almost too much to process.
"I..." You trailed off, letting out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. "Nick, I—"
Before you could finish, Nick moved closer, his eyes locked on yours. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, and that was all the permission he needed. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you'd dreamed it would be.
When you finally pulled back, you couldn't help but smile. "So... Smash. Next question?"
Nick laughed, shaking his head. "I guess I deserve that."
You grinned, resting your forehead against his. "For the record, I like you too. Not just as a co-star or a friend."
Nick's smile widened, and he pulled you into another kiss, this one deeper and filled with all the emotions you'd both been holding back.
Whatever came next—press tours, movie premieres, or even the nosy comments online—you knew one thing for sure: this was real. And it was only the beginning.
